The Varna
by silos
Summary: Post DH. Amongst the tides of blue and affairs of men, Hermione is caught alone. Will she be led onto fortune or will her voyage be served in shallows and miseries? She must take the current where it flows...even with Draco Malfoy on a full sea.


Hermione looked at her watch again. It was five minutes to eleven. Only five minutes left. She closed her eyes and prayed.

" Don't be late. Don't miss this." She prayed.

She had arrived at ten and arranged her luggage.

She had kept her essentials in her room.

She had double checked her ticket, which now resided in her coat pocket.

She had also had a word with the manager (who had apparently forgotten her name) about the food and then proceeded to ask him whether the departure time could be delayed if one was late or if one was waiting for a "friend" to arrive. The Manager had given her a sad pathetic look and she immediately regretted her inquiry.

She had then used her mobile and called her flat, but got only a ring tone and no reply.

She had gone back to her room and made sure her belongings were still in place.

She had then gone outside and checked her watch.

Five minutes to eleven.

She thought to herself – one more minute, just one more minute Hermione, then you can follow drastic measures.

After one minute, she took out her wand and thought of a very beautiful scene. She, Ron and Harry, wounded and tired after the battle at Hogwarts, sitting together in Dumbledore's office, relieved and ready to begin their lives afresh, without fear. She muttered a fast _expecto patronum _and watched her Otter scurry across the sunny port.

She could already see people waving goodbyes to each other; a group of mothers kissing and hugging their daughters and sons. She assumed that they would be a part of a school group, taking a trip together or something of that sort. She saw a group of newlywed saying goodbye to their parents, relatives and friends. She thought that these six were recently married as they clung to each other forcefully and looked rather happy. She could also see a few people standing alone, facing the crowd and noticing the visitors as they bid a farewell, while some were already looking towards the endless ocean on the other side of the deck. She looked at her watch again.

Two minutes left.

She tried to think of other happy memories but now what appeared to her were ravaged scenes of Ron's body, brutal attempts on his life by hippogryfs or thestrals; she could not think of "Ron and me" happy memory. She calmed herself and then thought of another Otter, this time not carrying insults or rebukes, but full of worry and asking Ron to at least reply back to her, with a guarantee that she won't send him back a howler.

But she still got no reply.

She was now rethinking her whole trip. There was still time for her to remove her luggage from the room. She could simply _accio _them and then levitate them off. But she thought that this would be highly unfair to them. Ron and her, she especially, had planned this trip for a long time. These twenty days were the only free time she and he could get out of their busy schedules. She kept busy with her post on the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. This trip meant being free, being together without being disturbed from the outside world.

She looked at her watch.

Only a minute left.

She kept looking on the road ahead and breathing his name.

Ron. Ron. Ron.

But the road only showed receding figures on broomsticks, foot and very few in cars.

"At least be alive and well." Was the only thing she could mutter as the Varna set sail.

She picked up her cell phone and called up her mother, who answered after a few rings.

"Hi mom. I'm off." She said, in what she considered to be a pleasant tone.

"You're on the boat then?" her mother's voice was full of excitement but Hermione could sense a bit of anxiety.

"Have you kept appropriate clothes and shoes, dear? Make sure you call us or owl us at least once a day. I know you like to be independent and you have always done what you like, but your dad and I worry about you and we miss you. I do hope you'll write and tell us how you and Ron are doing. Its Twenty days of sun and sea but I think you should have chosen some other form of transport. A ship sailing to Egypt and India and back in twenty days sounds dodgy. Wouldn't that be a bit hurried dear?" Mrs. Granger had said all this very fast and even missed Hermione's mumbles and mutterings of 'But, mum', 'Listen mom' in between.

When her mother had finally paused, Hermione spoke loudly and in a rather forced voice, "Ron isn't here. I'm alone on the Varna."

Mrs. Granger was quiet for a long time and then said in a composed tone that always irked Hermione, "Did you both have a quarrel in the last few days?"

This question was unexpected and threw Hermione totally off.

"What! What made you think that?..." she calmed herself as she realized that she was shouting at her mother. "No. I think Ron missed the ship because he had some work or..." she trailed off.

Her mother immediately singled out her reply. "You mean you don't know why he hasn't come? Are you sure you didn't say anything to Ron that would make him angry enough to stand you up like this? You know how sensitive the boy is. I'm sure you must have said something about his family or his job with is brother….."

Hermione was now fuming and the heat she was feeling coming out through her ears blocked out her the rest of her mother's argument. Apparently, her mother was not helping her situation one bit. Instead of making her feel relieved, she was giving her more reasons to be angry, worried and what was more – guilty.

She screamed into the phone "GOODBYE. I'll write to you when I reach Egypt."

"I'm sorry, darling. Didn't mean to interfere like that. So, can't Ron meet you someplace in Egypt after a day or so? He can apparate, can't he? Or maybe he can fly there on his broom?"

Hermione hadn't realized that a phone call could turn so tedious. But she attempted to explain. "See mom, Ron can't reach me anyway he tries. Apparating to another country is illegal. A port key would involve a long time as both countries need to give permission a week before. By that time, we'll be Merlin knows where. As for the broom, I'd rather have a Ron with normal room temperature than a frosty one. He might freeze mid-air on his Nimbus even before he's left England. There's no way that he can..." She hesitated." The Varna is a magical ship, mom. It has a conceal charm upon it and this means that no one can see it. It follows an uncharacteristic path. There's no accounting where we'll end up. He only knows that it takes a day for us to reach Egypt and it'll take us a day to come back from India. Also, the itinerary was given when I boarded. I could owl Ron but when he gets it, depends on where the hell he is. I'm just so..."

Her mother knew that she'd already said more than required and so she stayed quiet this fearing her daughter's anger and more importantly, her sorrow.

Hermione continued, "Anyway, I'll enjoy this free time. I bought a lot of books I hadn't read, a lot of Ministry work. I'm sure I can make my time useful."

With a few more lines of cautious sympathy, Mrs. Granger replaced the phone, wishing in her heart that Ron better had a good excuse for stranding Hermione.

Hermione ended the call with her mother and then switched off her mobile. She had made up her mind. She wasn't going to not enjoy her vacation; just because Ron had decided not to come. She thought of Harry and Ginny and how they'd be enjoying themselves right now, together. She thought of herself as being away from the world but alone. No Ron - but that she decided that this also meant no disturbance. It was a useless reason to pacify oneself, but a reason nonetheless.

She looked around for the first time after finishing her call. The honeymooners were still hugging each other and waving goodbyes to their families still. The young students had fallen back, giggling and huddled into groups, and were looking out at the open sea. A few girls were bending down and looking at the sea while some started to move towards their rooms.

As she was about to look further, she saw a short man. He had a small paunch and wore spectacles that slid to the bridge of his nose. Mr. Sen, the manager, was approaching her with caution. Hermione felt that she might have been very nervous before while she was having the conversation with him; so she smiled warmly so as to put him at ease.

"Hello Madam. Is everything alright?" he asked safely.

"Yes, quite, thank you for asking. I'm sorry if I appeared tense or strained earlier. Actually I was waiting for my companion to arrive. But sadly he's forsaken me." She said half smiling, half bitterly.

Mr. Sen removed his glasses and said sympathetically, "I hope Madam will not be inconvenienced without familiar company. As you see we have a lot of couples here, a lot of youngsters; but some single men and women also take this ride in order to know themselves, or find a partner aboard the high seas. There are a few people you might like to meet."

Hermione smiled. She wanted to be polite and tell Mr. Sen that she had a perfectly sound relationship with Ron, _thank you very much_, who was strangely deserted her.

"I think I'll manage. I brought with me a lot of work. I think I'll be fine. I find my own company enjoyable."

But Mr. Sen was persistent. He said, "Alright. But I'll just point out a few passengers to you so that you'll not be shy...Miss Granger, you remind me of my daughter who prefers to keep to herself and not mix with others. Let me help you know these people. Maybe you'll find that you'll be good friends and then you can thank me."

Hermione nodded reluctantly to Mr. Sen's unfettering eagerness and he started pointing out people for her.

"See there – The lady in that long expensive dress..." and Hermione found herself looking at a lady with white hair and the lady's blotched face, full of makeup, came to her view from even this far. "...she's supposed to be awfully wealthy. She brought with her two house elves and hasn't even allotted them a servant's quarter. Really scoundrel of her to do that. She doesn't realize that after the war things have changed."

Hermione nodded, suddenly becoming very interested in her nails. She didn't want Mr. Sen or anybody else to suddenly realize that she was a recognizable face from the war times and now, a familiar face of the Daily Prophet. After the war, she had fought hard for the rights of non-Wizards and was successful in amending laws. This had put her on the not only on the front page of Daily Prophet more than once, but had also elicited strong editorials from Rita Skeeter.

"By the way, her name is Piercy. Over there we have..." he turned to the opposite side on the promenade deck "...hooligans, a bunch of kids, I tell you. Haven't even unpacked their stuff and are already asking for lunch. Don't know what mothers do these days!" Hermione looked over at the kids. They didn't look a day over seventeen. She heard Mr. Sen grumble about kids turning seventeen and taking wet bouts of freedom above his ship. He continued speaking, still looking at the kids contemptuously. "We have a scientist among us too. Mr. Ralph his name is. Very oddly he behaves and his family and firm warned us not to disturb him. I can't see him here at all." He started to look around the deck searching for him.

But Hermione's attention had been grabbed by a cane chair on the deck, occupied by a man whose back was facing her. He was wearing a hat. Mr. Sen followed her gaze.

"What are you looking at? That is, he is...I seem to forget his name. I must carry my passenger list from now on; I always forget names... But from what the crew told me, he is supposed to be a famous historiographer. He's written numerous biographies and is now attempting a fiction from a muggle's perspective. What notabilities we have among us!"

Hermione also noticed another form lying on a reclining cane chair not far from others. That man was also wearing a hat and robes but she could see his slender figure through the cane. She noticed a lot of the giggling girls who were turning red and kept staring at the cane chairs.

"Who's that?" she asked Mr. Sen, her curiosity suddenly piqued. Mr. Sen looked from Hermione to the chair and then pointed to a tall figure who was entering from the rooms.

"This is Mrs. Vif and over there must be her husband Mr. Vif. She's a pretty girl, isn't she?" Hermione nodded without really thinking. She could see a striking attractive face with blond hair that flowed beautifully as the figure walked gracefully. The woman's slim form fit snugly in a long robe that shimmered soft pink. She was moving towards her husband and as she walked, everybody on the deck stared at her. Hermione unexpectedly thought how alluring it would be to be like Mrs. Vif and equally troublesome as well, always being stared at. As she saw others watching Mrs. Vif moving towards her husband, she detached her gaze towards the other figure who was now leaving his chair. He left his chair and for the first time since few minutes, Hermione saw a familiar face, albeit an unpleasant one. The figure recognized her too, removed his hat and moved towards her, a response she was not expecting, apprehensively at first and then with over confidence came and stood in front of her.

"Isn't it a small world!"

Mr. Sen startled, diverted his gaze from Mrs. Vif and looked at Hermione who now seemed at a loss for words. "Ah...ah...Zacharias. Nice to see you after such a long time." She could sense all eyes turning towards her. People on the promenade hadn't noticed that Mrs. Vif had reached her husband's side and bended down to kiss him.

Zacharias Smith seemed the same to Hermione, all same as before, except that when he had recognized her, his eyes and hands looked as if they were doing some quick thinking. His smile seemed to look more arrogant and assembled. He removed his hat to show the neatly arranged tufts of hair.

He said "Hermione Granger..." and she felt that he was talking rather too loudly "...after such a long time. I wondered where you had gone. Not the magic of minister yet?" he asked with what she felt was a condescending grin.

Hermione replied in a similar vein. "You're not in Azkaban, are you? I think fleeing from fighting in the war should deem sufficient punishment, shouldn't it? While you were enjoying time being cowardly concealed, many of us were helping the wizarding world."

Feeling many eyes upon her, including that of Mrs. Piercy whose ugly expressions showed utmost displeasure, she thought that the best policy for her might be to keep a disinterested tone of enquiry which might not frighten other passengers. War was still a prickly subject for her and she did not want to create a scene.

"Are you the "famous" historiographer cum writer?" she asked.

"Guilty as charged. I am here to inspire myself, I reckon. After writing the three best sellers, national and international of course, I want to try something different. So here I am. Waiting for motivation to strike me to bits and produce the new wizarding bestseller. What about you?"

She just allowed herself to say "vacation" and noticed that Smith had become too friendly, very soon, when Smith interrupted her.

"Now that's interesting. Two lonely people meeting on the boat? What fun we'll have together..." He spoke so sincerely that Hermione started to doubt his real motives.

"Think about it. Me, Zacharias Smith, the young and famous historiographer and novelist and you, Hermione Granger, the...ministry employee. It will be fun.

Hermione was too shocked and troubled at the change she noticed in Smith after hearing his words that she even failed to notice Mrs. Vif taking off a man's hat to reveal a white-blonde head that had immediately jerked back to look at her and Zacharias's retreating figures. That head was going to prove to be more shocking and troublesome for her.


End file.
